Shen Qingqiu doesnât know immediately heâs cursed. Sure, maybe heâs lost some weight. Maybe his arm feels a little heavier than usual. Maybe heâs a little lightheaded from time to time, but what of it? Heâs waiting for his impending death, which will be long and painful, who would have a good appetite in a situation like this?
Weeks go by, he rarely leaves the house, and everything is fine, even if some of his students keep looking at him like he might faint any minute now.
The whole next day is a blur â Mu Qingfang with his needles and familiar qi, Yue Qingyuan with his guilty expressions, Liu Qingge trying to break through the Without-A-Cure blockage that just isnât there.
Itâs a Fading Curse. Stupid fucking wife plot that makes his body slowly fade away in the most dramatic and tragically beautiful way. Shen Yuan remembers reading about that what feels like a lifetime ago â another beautiful maiden fell victim to a mysterious disease, origins of which werenât even mentioned, and started to lose her life force.
Of course, since she was a future wife, she couldnât be slowly dying in a real way â her hair didnât fall out, her teeth were just fine, and even by the time she was barely breathing her bladder worked alright. Absolutely unrealistic.
So, Shen Qingqiu is thin, with fragile wrists and fingers, his skin is a fetching porcelain-pale, heâs dizzy all the time and is ready to fall into Luo Bingheâs arms in a very dramatic fashion.
Only Luo Binghe isnât here. Because Shen Qingqiu tossed him into the Endless Abyss.
Shen Qingqiu thinks, at first, heâs got about enough time in his once-again-dying body for his and Shang Qinghuaâs back-ups to be ready. Shen Qingqiu is wrong.
He wakes up one day to a wet pillow. Itâs not the first time itâs happened, to his horror, so he just groans and furiously wipes at his face. His hands come out bloody.
âThe curse has progressed to its final stage.â Mu Qingfqng says, careful hands wiping at Shen Qingqiuâs cheeks, cleaning blood that wonât stop flowing from his eyes. âThe treatment isnât-â
âThis one doesnât need treatment.â Shen Qingqiu interrupts.
âAllow this shidi to disagree. Shixiong will die, and he will die soon, if he doesnât-â
âThis one will not get married.â Shen Qingqiu snaps.
He will not get someone to marry him. Him! An alive target for Luo Bingheâs ire!
âIt doesnât have to be⌠real.â Mu Qingfang tries.
As if Luo Binghe will care if itâs real or not. He will probably kill Shen Qingqiuâs fake spouse as an introduction to the torture.
âIt doesnât have to happen at all.â
But plant bodies arenât ready and Shen Qingqiu gets worse and everyone is worried. He is always accompanied by at least one of his martial brothers, Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge being his most common companions.
âYou have better things to do.â Shen Qingqiu grunts at Liu Qingge, as he comes to himself after trying to walk across his room and fainting, once again.
âThen marry me.â Liu Qingge says.
The wedding is organized quickly. Everything is ready by the next morning. Shen Qingqiu is dressed by Ming Fan, and it feels all wrong. The whole thing is wrong. He never planned to wear red wedding robes at all, let alone like this. Heâs at least thankful for the color of his clothing â blood isnât that visible on crimson red, and he just canât seem to stop crying. Pathetic.
The ceremony is to take place right by his bamboo house, since no one trusts him to walk any further. Liu Qingge arrives right in time, dressed impeccably, as a groom who will never become a real husband. One more thing that Shen Qingqiu ruined.
His head is clouded, and he feels a treacherous quiver in his knees. Heâs about to fall, again. He wipes his face with a wet, silk kerchief and tries not to fucking cry. Gods.
âLetâs get this over with.â He asks.
Thereâs movement around him, quiet voices.
âArenât you dead?â Liu Qingge asks.
Shen Qingqiu doesnât think so, though he is certainly close. He looks up, and finds that Liu Qingge isnât talking to him. Thereâs someone behind, someone who-
Shen Qingqiu turns around, willing his feet to stay steady.
âShizun,â Luo Bingheâs eyes are red. Itâs bad, though Shen Qingqiu doesnât register why right away. âIs this one late to celebration?â
Heâs early. Shen Qingqiu should have known that his Luo Binghe is so much better, stronger, faster. He should have known that heâll be out of hell faster. His barely beating heart fills with misplaced pride for a short moment. His eyes fill with tears.
âShizun.â Luo Binghe gasps.
Will he kill him now? Will he kill everyone?
Shen Qingqiu doesnât get to find out. His knees give out and he falls.
